


Five Dozen Pink Roses

by Maiden_of_Asgard



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Jötunheimr | Jotunheim, Married Couple, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29388753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_Asgard/pseuds/Maiden_of_Asgard
Summary: It's the first chance you've had to celebrate Valentine's Day as the Queen of Jotunheim.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 102
Collections: Flurries - The World of Frostbite





	Five Dozen Pink Roses

“You know, Your Majesty,” Hross tells you as he helps you balance on a stool to hang yet another flowery garland, “it would be much quicker if you’d just allow me to put these up.”

“Decorating is half the fun,” you reply. “Besides, my balance is way better than it used to be.”

Since paper is still hard to come by on Jotunheim, you’ve had to get creative; instead of cut-out paper hearts, your garland is accented with flowers crafted from wire and glass beads. They look even better than you’d anticipated, and you’re pretty proud of yourself for your creativity. 

“Hearts look nothing like this,” Hross says for probably the hundredth time since you’ve roped him into helping you pull off Utgard’s first Valentine’s Day. “You know, some of the most classic love-songs compare the ache of love to that of a sharp knife in the belly or ice to the lungs—”

“Sorry, but I’m not making lung or stomach-shaped decorations. It’s just not happening.”

“Fine, fine. I didn’t take you for such a prescriptivist.”

You roll your eyes. 

“I saw that, Your Majesty,” he says. “You should be glad that I was willing to wake up before the crack of dawn to assist in your mad schemes of love and romance, in defiance of the king himself. Why, I am risking life and limb for your amusement.”

“It isn’t exactly in defiance of the king.” You hop down from the stool and step back to admire your handiwork. “He just… doesn’t exactly know about it yet. Loki’s got enough on his mind. It’ll be a nice surprise. Gonna romance the hell out of him.”

Hross chokes back a cackle, likely imagining the look on Loki’s face upon being ambushed with public declarations of romantic devotion. “Fertility festivals are rare in the capital these days, from what the inlanders have said. I doubt Utgard has seen anything remotely similar in a hundred years.”

Your cheeks warm. “It’s not a fertility festival.”

“No? You aren’t attempting to—”

“No,” you interrupt.  _ Yes. Maybe a little. _ “It’s just a fun friendship-and-love holiday.”

Hrossþjófr smirks. “I am going to kiss Greip in the great hall,” he says.

“Are you asking for my permission? Because, considering the fact that she’s got family visiting, and they still kind of… hate you, my official royal response is that you probably shouldn’t.”

“I will hang the mating-foliage as an excuse.”

“Mistletoe isn’t really a Valentine’s Day thing, Hross,” you reply. “But, I’m glad that the Christmas celebrations left such an impact on you.”

Yet another servant passes through the throne room, takes one look at you and Hross decorating the area around the throne and dais, and quickly hurries off in the opposite direction. You imagine they assume you’re pranking His Royal Majesty, and they don’t want to be in the fallout zone when he finds out. It’s understandable. The last time the two of you bickered over a prank gone wrong, he ended up exiling everyone from the room so the two of you could make out on his throne.

You have zero regrets. 

It always takes some cajoling to get Loki in a celebratory mood, especially when he’s busy and stressed like he has been lately, but you’re sure he’ll come around. Really, Valentine’s Day is more of an excuse to pet him up and lavish him with affection than anything else; after the week he’s had, he needs to be spoiled a little. Your only regret is that you’ve yet to find any jötunn foods that can really approximate chocolate. Your man  _ deserves _ some chocolate. 

You snag a tray of pastries that one of the more adventurous young cooks in the palace kitchens has crafted according to your specifications. He even managed to get some nice shades of pinkish-purple beetroot-sugar icing. Loki is going to  _ love _ eating donuts in bed. 

Speed is of the essence, though, because your sixth-sense is tingling; Loki is awake, though you’ve yet to hone your mate-radar to the point where you can tell if he’s up and moving around yet.  _ Oh well,  _ you think.  _ I can always order him back into bed. He’ll like that, anyway.  _

Except, your mate-radar turns out to be even less finely-tuned than anticipated, because you nearly run directly into your sleepy-eyed husband when you round the corner next to the staircase. “Babe!” you squeak, wishing there was some way to hide an entire tray of donuts behind your back, and Loki says your name with equal surprise, the bunch of beautiful pink roses vanishing from his arms. 

“I… what were those?” you ask. 

Loki’s cheeks turn a little rosy. The flowers reappear in his hands. “Surprise?”

You laugh and hold up the donut tray. “Surprise,” you reply. “Good morning, Valentine.” You lean up to kiss him on the cheek. “I didn’t realize you knew.”

“Gjálp mentioned it in passing,” Loki says, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “As I’ve said, I am vaguely familiar with a wide variety of human customs. It is a courting-holiday, correct? Admirers shower you with tokens of affection?”

“More or less.” Smiling, you offer him a donut, holding it while he takes a huge bite. “Shall we retire to bed, sire?” 

He looks even more embarrassed, somehow, and he clears his throat. “I should actually like to deliver these, first.”

Your brow arches. “Oh?”

“Well, these are for you, obviously,” he says, hefting the most extravagant bunch of roses, their flawless pink petals edged with a crimson-and-white frill.

“And the others?”

Loki sighs, and his brow furrows. “I’d hoped to be more discreet.” He nods at the other armful of roses, delicate, pale-pink dozens tied together with ribbon. “Greip,” he says sourly. “Gjálp. Hafalda. Heiðr. I thought that they would enjoy feeling included, since I assumed you’d be showing yours off to them.”

“You big softie.”

“Hardly.”

He’s so freaking  _ cute _ . “Want me to walk with you? We can be the flower-delivery team. I bet they’re all still asleep.”

“I would like that very much, sweetheart,” Loki replies. “But first, feed me another pastry, please.”

**Author's Note:**

> I had several requests for Frostbite Valentine’s Day fluff, which have culminated in this little ficlet. Happy Friday, everyone! 💙🥰


End file.
